


Stop-Motion

by Amilyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: After the Battle of Endor, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Injury, Injury Recovery, Intimacy, Post-Canon, Space Battles, field medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 08:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11733120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amilyn/pseuds/Amilyn
Summary: In the weeks following the Battle of Endor, High Command sends Leia Organa, as a member of the Elder House Organa of Alderaan, to ask the Elder House monarchy on the small planet of Arkanis to join the Alliance.  Leia and Han are attacked as they depart, leaving Leia badly injured and incapacitated.  She has to rely on Han, while managing her fears of being weak and helpless.  Han has to take care of her, take care of the Falcon, and keep them flying.  They're headed for trouble when an assassin sent from Arkanis catches up to them and they need one pilot and one gunner.





	1. Opening Crawl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alderannianprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=alderannianprincess).



> Written for alderannianprincess in the Han/Leia Summer Secret Santa Challenge 2017.

**_It is weeks after the Battle of Endor, where the evil Emperor Palpatine was defeated._ **

**_Leia Organa, with Shara Bey and Queen Soruna of Naboo, have saved the planet_ **

**_from Palpatine's vengeance, and the Rebel Alliance is gaining support._ **

**_World after world is turning on agents of the Empire,_ **

**_but Imperial leadership is reinforcing its power and strongholds._ **

 

**_In an attempt to secure support from the remaining_ **

**_monarchies of the Elder Houses, Princess Leia Organa,_ **

**_as representative from the fallen planet Alderaan,_ **

**_leaves Naboo to journey as an emissary to the small planet of Arkanis,_ **

**_also the location of an Imperial Officer Academy._ **

 

**_Accompanying her is General Han Solo, now her husband._ **

**_Princess Leia must convince the monarchs of Arkanis_ **

**_to throw off Imperial influence and commit to the Alliance to Restore the Republic._ **

**_However, she and General Solo sense that their mission is endangered by_ **

**_Imperial sympathy and that they should take their leave while they still can..._ **


	2. Opening Crawl

"Slow down!" Leia said, jaw clenched.

"We need to get out of here."

"I know that, but I don't want to look like I'm running, and your legs are longer--."

A blaster bolt hit the docking platform. She hated that she still shrieked at every explosion.

"Run!" Leia sprinted ahead of Han, pulling the skirt she'd been holding lightly off the damp walkway into handfuls above her knees.

Plasma and burnt air sizzled past her ears.

Han's boots pounded against the walkway as he passed her.

Grit, splattered water, and bits of duracrete flew up next to her, peppering her legs.

Han turned around at the _Falcon_ 's ramp.

"Go!" she shouted.

He was up the ramp in two strides.

Her lungs burned. A pebble or bit of shrapnel bit into her foot with every step. Sweat rolled down her cheeks and neck. A sharp pain stung her right shoulder blade just as she reached the ramp.

She half-fell the last steps up the ramp and shouted, "Go!"

The deck floor pushed against her as the _Falcon_ lifted, and Leia panted, listening to the ramp close, the docking gear unclamp and fold in, the particular ticking and knocking of liftoff, then the high-pitched whine of the _Falcon_ 's repulsors. A few more blaster bolts shook the ship, but the side to side swing of Han's evasive maneuvers and the deeper rumble of the atmospheric thrusters soon moved them out of range.

"Leia! I need you up here!"

Leia moved to stand up. The metal deck was cool against her cheek, and she pushed against it. No matter how she lifted her head and gathered her legs beneath her, the deck and room merely spun around her.

"Sweetheart, it would help if you could calculate our jump!"

"Coming." Leia pushed herself up again. The inertial dampeners must be malfunctioning, she thought, as the _Falcon_ spun like a dizzying festival ride.

"Leia!"

The rumble of the the thrusters gave way to the hum of the engines as the _Falcon_ left atmo, and she felt lighter, surprised to find herself still pressed into the deck plates.

"Never mind. We're past orbital range," Han called. "I think they just wanted us gone. No one's following, so that's good."

Leia felt his feet hit the deck. She frowned. Blinked. Her fingertips were against the plates, and his footsteps were in her fingers.

"She's on sublight auto till we can calculate a jump. Where have you--"

His name. She would say his name. Her tongue was thick, slow.

"Leia?"

Han had said they were on autopilot, but the Falcon was spinning. He gripped her shoulders, shook them slightly. Was he angry? The lights pulsed above his head.

"Leia!"

She blinked again, tried to answer. Frowning, concentrating, she reached for his hand, and her arm fell to the deck.

His hands cupped her cheeks. "Leia, where are you hurt? Leia?" His eyes were wide. He had lots of wide, wide eyes.

Something was wrong, she realized.

Han ran his hands down her arms, torso, hips. It was an odd time to make out, Leia thought. He pulled on her shoulder, checking her back, and swore. Firm pressure. A sting. Shoulder blade. He'd pulled the shrapnel out. Han rolled her gently onto her back.

"Sweetheart, they hit you with a dart. I need to know what it's doing to you."

So...not shrapnel. A kaleidoscope scattered and twirled before her eyes.

Han looked around rapidly, but there was clearly nothing that would help. "Leia, can you talk?"

Leia stared at him...well, one of him...and deliberately blinked twice.

"Okay. Okay." He was breathing heavily. "Twice for no. So, once for yes?"

Blink.

"Are you in pain?"

Leia scrunched up her nose, then blinked twice, slowly.

"Can you move?" All his foreheads wrinkled.

She tried. She tried to reach, to sit, to nod, then she rolled her eyes, and blinked twice.

"I've got to find out what this is." He held up the dart. "You might stop breathing if it's what I think. Gotta get you to the med capsule." He was already gathering her into his arms. "That work for you, Princess?"

Leia blinked once. Opening her eyes was more difficult. Her eyelids were so heavy and the spinning would have made her giggle if she could make a sound.

She spiraled down the whirlpool of the lights, the face spinning above her, and distant, slow-motion ship's noises.

Then she fell and fell and fell.

***

Leia was adrift on a dark ocean. Beneath her it bucked and rolled. Water splashed against her cheeks and into her eyes. She needed to cough but couldn't. Wind blew into her face. Enough to catch her breath.

A dark wave rose up, helmet-shaped, two dark spots like eyes below its dome. It hovered, then crashed over her. She was sure it would devour her whole.

Cold tendrils worked into her brain, filing through her memories, her knowledge, seeking the core of herself.

She wanted to fight, but she couldn't move, couldn't even look around her. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't make a sound. Where was Han? What happened to him?

So cold. It was so cold, and they were going to take her secrets, secrets that kept other people safe. There was nothing to hold onto, nowhere to go.

Her mind was slow, filled with treacly tar. Everything was dark and silent, and she drifted out into the ocean's night.


	3. Trapped

Leia jerked awake, gasping for air, already fighting before her eyes were open. Around her was a foggy gray. She was restrained, and every attempt to pull her arms loose failed. A mask stretched across her face, holding her head down, and she wondered what drugs were in the air blowing through it.

She had dreamt they had won. Again.

But she was captive. 

Again.

That metallic taste in her throat was an all-too-familiar sign of an adrenaline dump. She was already breathing past the speed of the air in the mask. She didn't want to breathe extra drugs, so she concentrated on modulating her respiration. In and out. In and out.

A deep voice sounded. "Princess?"

She flinched. She thought she'd screamed, but there was only a tiny whimper.

"You back with me, Princess?"

That was...less formal than she expected from captors. Imperial officers were, well, officious.

There was pressure on her hand. She pulled away, but nothing happened.

She blinked, licked her lips.

"All right!" he cheered. The next sentence was a murmur. "You scared me so badly, sweetheart."

Lips were pressed to her temple, and a hand stroked her hair.

"You're gonna be okay."

Han. She'd found Han. He wasn't lost in the ocean.

"I analyzed the substance in the dart--"

She'd been shot. Shot at. Poisoned? Drugged? But the Imperials didn't have her.

"--limited facilities. Best I can tell it's a neurotoxin, but not deadly. I mean...you're still here."

She could hear his crooked smile. Han was with her.

His thumb stroked her forehead and he pressed her hand against his cheek. She tried to squeeze his hand, but, still, nothing happened, and her hand tingled like it was asleep.

She licked her lips again. "H…" She breathed with the forced air. "H… How…"

"You've been out for most of a standard day." Han's voice was low. Ragged. That answer stripped any pretense of nonchalance from his speech. "I didn't know if you'd...if I'd just have to watch you…" He swallowed, kissed her hand. "I'm just glad you're awake."

"Wh--"

"We're stuck on sublight. Looks like those bastards on Arkanis took our hyperdrive motivator. Don't know how they got on my ship in the first place, but they yanked it out, left everything else." Han held her fingers to his cheek. "I've sent a coded message to High Command. Need to make sure we're not being set up or ambushed."

They'd been so sure that the Elder House of Arkanis would be ready to join the New Republic.

"Princess, you ready for me to check you over?"

She nodded. Tried to nod. The room spun again. "Re… R…"

He set her hand down, started at the top of her head, touching, asking her to move, asking her what hurt. Leia wasn't sure how far they got before the whirlpool sucked her into darkness again.

***

The next time she forced her eyes open, wincing at the bright lights, she saw Han sitting in a chair, slumped against edge of the med capsule, one arm across her chest.

"H…" She sucked in air from the mask, concentrated. "Ha…" She licked her lips, swallowed, breathed again. "Han."

Han started. "Leia, sweetheart. Are you all right? Are you in pain?" He laced his fingers between hers. "Can you squeeze my hand?"

Leia concentrated on the warmth of his hand against the tingling of hers. She focused on her fingers, her thumb, her wrist, and pressed all her thoughts into tightening those muscles. Nothing. She shook her head.

"That's all right. You moved your head. That's good." His face grew grave again. "Can you swallow?"

She focused, pressed her lips together, and concentrated on her throat muscles. It took two tries before she swallowed. "Yes." Victory. She smiled...or tried to.

He breathed a huge sigh and sagged into his chair. "Breathing, swallowing, talking, and tiny movements." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "Princess, I think you're over the worst of the crisis."

"Wha...wha-hap--"

"Shhh. Just because you can talk doesn't mean you oughta. Just...rest."

She looked at him pointedly, and realized, when he grinned, that she'd turned her head. Breathing, swallowing, talking, small movements. If those had gone entirely, she'd have aspirated saliva, and possibly asphyxiated. She heard the heart monitor speed up at the thought. Yes, she was incredibly lucky.

"I analyzed the dart as much as the _Falcon_ 's systems can. Never thought I'd miss having those two droids here with us."

She raised an eyebrow. He was right; talking was too much effort while she tried to synch her breathing to the air supply.

"The dart had a trace poison. _Falcon_ couldn't get much out of it other than it's in a class of neurotoxin that, in small doses, can wear off."

"Whu's...catch?"

"It takes...a while to wear off."

"Why?"

"Demyelinization."

She'd never seen him look this serious outside of a battle.

"The nerve sheath...it takes time to re-grow."

Leia looked at the ceiling, took two careful breaths. "H'long?"

"If we had a bacta tank, less than a day."

She closed her eyes. Not forever. It wouldn't be forever. "H'long...base?"

Han cringed. "Too long, Princess. All we've got is sublight. The Alliance hasn't got a large enough ship to spare to bring us in."

"Long?"

"We'll take a month or more to get back to the Fleet."

A month. Not forever. But a month of being immobile, dependent. Cold shuddered through her. The chill pressed her down, made her even heavier. The med capsule, hard under her, hurt as it pressed against her spine, her shoulder blades. She was trapped.

Han brushed her cheek with his finger. "It'll be okay, sweetheart. We always make it through."

Leia bit her lip and tried to nod. She felt like the floor dropped beneath her. The heart monitor beeped faster and faster. She breathed. In and out. In and out. Counting. Counting. One-two-three-four weeks. One-two-three-four weeks. Can't move. Can't...can't breathe. Everything was dark, but even the dark spun around her. A cape swirled, blocking the light. She pressed herself into the corner. Hard edges. Nowhere to go. Can't move. So small. Be smaller. Smaller.

_Now, Princess, we will discuss the location of your rebel base._

Be invisible. Cold. So cold. Cold fingers in her brain. In her brain. Pressing against her consciousness, pawing through her mind.

Hands squeezed her shoulders, heavy, pinching. Pain. Pain everywhere. 

_I won't tell I won't tell. I will tell you nothing. Nothing. Nothing._

She was nothing. Nothing. Nothing in the darkness.


	4. Dependent

The wall was hard against her back and legs. Leia tried to press herself farther back into the corner, but her feet dangled above the floor. She was trapped.

Nowhere to go. No way to get there.

The IT-O droid hummed forward. Her breathing grew rapid and ragged. She reached up to push at the hovering sphere, but her hands were slammed against the bulkhead and pinned in place.

No one had touched her. The Death Star Guards maintained their stance and fixed stare. Vader loomed with his armor and dark cape, one arm reaching ever-so-slightly in her direction. No one was touching her. But she couldn't move. Not her arms, hands, legs, head. Every inch of her was pressed against the wall and bunk. She could barely expand her chest to breathe.

The IT-O moved toward her and back, toward her and back. Pain burned through every nerve as it injected her in a dozen locations.

Vader's words boomed and echoed as her sense of time stretched and distorted. _We will discuss the location of your rebel base. Rebel base. Discuss location. Rebel base._

Her muscles cramped, calves contracting to point her feet, abdomen and back at war, shoulders and neck pinching.

It stole her breath away.

Vader's demands and threats continued on repeat.

He would not wear her down. She would not give in. She would not betray. She turned into her mind, tucking herself away from the onslaught--

She jerked awake, gasping for breath.

All her muscles were contracting, just as they had under interrogation.

 _Breathe, Leia,_ she told herself, taking measured, deliberate breaths to distance herself from this pain.

She'd forgotten the exact feeling of turning inside, reaching away from her body. It had helped then. She turned now, both inward and outward.

There was a blue swirl, the turn of a galaxy, that reached back and enveloped her, lifting, supporting her, and suffusing her with peace. Even as it rotated, it was still.

Luke's voice echoed. _In time, you'll learn to use it as I have._

Leia blinked. Or, perhaps more accurately, Leia-as-she-perceived herself blinked. This was the Force. It had to be. It was in her and around her. She could see the patterns of the stars of the galaxy, the turn of the planets, the distance between them, and the orbit of electrons as they held atoms together into the cells that made up every piece of matter.

In wonder, she found she could slow the movement, observe it more closely. She turned her imagined wrist, as she would to rotate the perspective on a hologram, and the image shifted. Like the image on a datapad, she could enlarge or shrink, zoom in or out, and alter the perspective. She could speed up the rate of energy transfer.

She looked into the quadrant where she and Han were flying, and could make out the _Falcon_. She zoomed in and in and in on Arkanis, finding its system, its moons, its primary continent, its capital. The pier from which she and Han had fled now held the chief emissary to the Alliance and an unfamiliar type of ship. The emissary nodded, and a heavily armored being stepped into the ship and lifted off.

The Elder House of Arkanis was sending an assassin. After them. And she couldn't fight.

Leia pulled back, heated through as if she'd been touched by the ship's engines. Arkanis was tinged red in her view. The whole galaxy was tinged red.

A new image superimposed itself over the galaxy. Lava ran hot, and above it, two blue lightsabers clashed at impossible speeds. The crackling plasma sizzled as two blond humans faced off in an impasse. One leapt away and they faced one another, sabers down. They stood, impossibly, on mining droids above the molten river.

The dark-clad man's saber turned red, and he morphed into Darth Vader, the other into General Kenobi, and they were as they had been on the Death Star. General Kenobi fell. Luke screamed. Lord Vader marched forward and swung, then he and Luke were dueling, as laughter reached around them and her.

_If you will not turn to the dark side, perhaps she will._

_I'll never join you!_

Rage seared through her. Vader was at her back and she pushed him away. He fell from the deck of the Death Star into the river of lava, where he skittered like a stone skipped on a lake. Leia turned to the starscape out the viewport, seeing that she was suspended, bare in space just as Alderaan exploded around her.

Vader's deep voice echoed with that chilling laughter from before. _Tell your sister I was right._

She recoiled as if burned. Every star, system, and fragment of Alderaan turned brown and collapsed around her like so much suspended dust caught by gravity.

She collapsed just as hard back into her own body, shaking and cold. She hurt. Everywhere.

Tears leaked back into her temples and, almost before she knew she was crying, her throat tightened as harshly as her spasming muscles.

Her face burned as if flash-scorched. As if she'd been _there_ in her...dream? Vision? There in the Force, where there was laughter and Darth Vader, her father, declaring that he could win her to the Dark Side. Sobs tightened her chest, closed her throat. Last time she'd cried was Endor, and before that...she couldn't even remember. And now she couldn't breathe, couldn't stop crying, could barely cough. Every alarm on the med capsule was beeping at full volume.

"Leia!"

Han pulled her unceremoniously upright, sat, and leaned her back against him. He punched at the alarms and silenced them.

"I'm so sorry. Didn't want you to wake up alone. So sorry."

She could not hear the words, but he kept murmuring into her hair. She swallowed, tried to slow her breathing, tried to wipe her face, but her arms hung, aching, heavy, and limp, and she only sobbed and coughed. He pressed a cool cloth from the med shelf against her forehead, wiped her nose under the oxygen mask, dabbed at her cheeks, then back to her forehead. Over and over, he tended her, all the while talking away.

Finally her breaths caught less raggedly, the coughing subsided, and his nonsense started sounding like words.

"--route seems clear. Sub-light is, well you remember. The trip to Bespin was almost three standard months, but this one looks to be shorter. Checked the long-range scanners as well. Still no sign they've got anyone on our tail--"

"They do."

"--so that's one less thing to worry-- What?"

"Someone's following us."

"Why do you say that?"

Leia blinked. She saw it again, the emissary seeing a strange ship off. "I...just know. I saw it."

"Is this some kind of--" 

"I had this same feeling on the way to Bespin. This...dread. I didn't know then what it was."

Han cleared his throat. "All right. If you know, you know." He pressed the cloth to her face again.

Her skin felt tight, but she smiled...or tried to. Her chin puckered. "Han, how are we going to do this? I mean, three or four weeks?" She blew against the air flow. She would not lose her composure again. "You can't do everything for me and fly the ship."

"I can." He kissed her hand. "And I will."

"We should have let Chewie come."

"You and I both know those snobby elders tend to be specist, and Chewie was helping the Ewoks resupply after the assault on the Imperial outpost on the other side of the moon."

"You can't fly the _Falcon_ and carry me all over the ship."

"Sure I can. _Falcon_ 's mostly on autopilot, and you weigh next to nothing." He brought her knuckles to his lips again. "I'm gonna take care of you."

"What about when I need to use the 'fresher?" Her face flamed and her hands chilled. "Like now." Her voice was as tiny and pathetic as she felt.

Han shrugged. "I'll carry you there."

Leia nodded slowly. Han eased her back down and removed the oxygen mask and a pile of blankets Leia hadn't even noticed were tucked around her.

He watched her.

"What?"

"You breathing okay?"

Smart. Her husband was smart. She breathed. Her stomach rose. Air filled her lungs. "I'm okay."

He sighed in obvious relief, and rubbed the back of his wrist against his forehead. "Let's make this simpler. I'm going to take off your boots and that...robe-thing here."

She nodded.

She hadn't felt them come off, but the boots plopped to the deck, then Han started maneuvering her arm out of her outer robe. She was glad this one had slit sides; as few garments as the Alliance had, and as little fabric as they could come by, this had been made at the last minute for her trip to Arkanis. The seamstress had apologized for it being a touch too long and the lack of fitted arm holes, a blessing now. She avoided thinking about how Han had to undress her like a child's doll.

"You ready, Leia?"

"Yeah." She might be able to breathe, but speaking was hard without the extra air, especially with everything still puffy from crying. She wasn't going to mention that, though. There was no choice left about this.

He rucked up her skirts and slung her closer arm around his neck. His other hand slipped behind her back, then his shoulder was supporting her armpit and there was a vague sense of pressure under her bare thighs. The world spun as he tipped her into his chest.

Her right arm jutted out over his shoulder, and her left arm fell to her side and swung there, useless. Like her. This was unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable. The pain was less, though, now that she'd been moved.

Han turned and shuffled sideways through the 'fresher door, easing her feet in and holding her closer. No hatch on this ship was built for two people to fit through. The 'fresher was no different. He got her settled on the head but banged her feet against the bulkhead in the process. He pulled the back of her dress out of the way, braced his side against her chest, and lifted, pulling her basics first from one side, then the other before setting her back down and easing the undergarment off.

She'd thought she'd be mortified to have him taking care of her every need, but the relief of urinating wiped away any embarrassment, even when he patted her dry with tissue.

"You mind if I get this dress off of you, sweetheart?"

"Always trying to get me out--" She caught her breath, only then noticing that her breathing was shallow and rapid, coming in little sips.

He undid the fastenings and peeled the dress over her head, tossing it to the side. Her only professional dress and he tossed it like...no, she didn't care. Her shoulders jerked up with each gasp.

"Hold on, Leia." Han scooped her against him again, and the _Falcon_ spun around her as his long strides carried her back to the med capsule. Then the mask pressed against her face, and his other hand was tucking the blankets around her naked form. He tucked the mask elastic behind her head, kissed her forehead, and sat heavily next to her. One side of his mouth tugged upward. "You make things so difficult sometimes, Your Highness."

"I do," she whispered. After several more breaths, she whispered, "I really do," and drifted to sleep.


	5. Frustration and Taking Stock

The oppressive darkness slowly faded to grey, then lighter. Leia felt the vibration of the hard surface beneath her.

_No! I'll never tell--_

It was the wrong vibration. The Death Star engines had made a persistent, buzzing hum that got into her head and her bones. This seemed to...hiccup. One-two-and-three-four. One-two-and-three-four. Almost soothing. Similar to her favorite court dance from childhood functions.

It was the _Falcon_. She was home.

Leia tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and air blew through the mask over her face.

"Han?"

No sound.

She licked her lips, licked under her tongue, counted her breaths, licked her lips with the bit of saliva she'd generated. "Han?"

Too quiet. He'd never hear her.

 _Don't leave me!_ Leia rolled her eyes at her own thought.

The ship wouldn't fly itself forever, and, of course, he'd have to tend to it. He'd already said there was nothing they could do.

But, oh, she was so thirsty. And helpless.

She carefully licked the roof of her mouth then around her teeth again.

_Time to take stock._

She'd see just how helpless.

She rolled her head side to side. Check. Opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed, and nodded. Check, check. She tightened her neck muscles, nodded, then lifted her head. It moved slightly before it fell back.

_Ow._

Shoulders shrugged, check. Arms rolled outwards slightly and lifted ever so slightly. Check...sort of. Wrists raised, fingers twitched. She focused on her legs, feet, toes, but couldn't tell if there was movement...couldn't even tell if they were there. She had a slight sensation of weight, but, otherwise, nothing. _Can't stand. Can't run._ She counted her breaths again. _Onetwothreefour one-and-two-and… ONE. ...TWO. ...THREE. ...FOUR._ Slightly better. Slightly.

She returned to her assessment. Her abdomen would clench, and her head rose farther with the abdominal muscles tight, but her shoulders remained planted on the med capsule surface. At least she lowered her head more smoothly.

"Han?"

Nothing. Was he asleep? What if he had been hit? What if he fell? What if-- _Helpless._

 _Stop it._ Leia shut down that line of thinking. It did no good. It would never be helpful. _Focus._ More deliberate breathing. Counting breaths was intolerably boring. And useless. Well, useful, but not in helping her move or do anything.

She was useless. She was going to be useless the entire flight back to the fleet. Her cheeks burned.

She tightened every muscle, one at a time. Went through them all the ones she could again. And again.

"Hey, Sweetheart, you're awake." Han was a bit blurry coming down the hallway, but his grin was stupid obvious. "How are you feel--"

"Where have you been?" Her sharp demand was muffled by the mask, not quite the strident tone she usually heard when her jaw was clenched this tight.

"I'm gonna let that slide this time, Princess." Han's voice was tight too.

An apology stuck, frozen as her body, as she glared at him.

"I've checked the _Falcon_ over. Didn't find any more sabotage."

"One piece of good news," she huffed.

He perched on the edge of the med capsule and took her hand in both of his. "How're you feeling?"

She closed her eyes and concentrated.

"You squeezed my hand!"

Leia felt like she'd run the length of the ship, but at least it wasn't spinning around her anymore.

"You want to get dressed?"

 _Get dressed._ "Get?"

Han squeezed her shoulder. "Do you want me to get some clothes on you?"

"I want…" Leia bit her lip. "I want to to be… You...you shouldn't have to dress me like a child!"

"Oh, you are definitely not a child, sweetheart! But you are injured."

She opened her mouth, but words and thoughts stuck, swirling from the med capsule to the slab of a bunk in a cell from long ago. She was here, lying on this hard surface, and there, on that one. She couldn't lift her arms because of the poison and Vader pinning her to the wall.

"Leia."

There was pressure on her shoulders.

"Leia!"

The bunk vibrated beneath her and jerked as each green beam fired and joined into a single laser array aimed at Alderaan. The hand on her shoulder squeezed. Forced air hissed.

"LEIA!"

The hands shook her slightly. She cringed, but then a palm rested on her face, warm. Warm. Nothing on the Death Star was warm. The hand was stroking her face.

"Leia, you're here. You're safe. You're on the _Falcon_."

She blinked. Han's face was above her.

"Han."

"I'm here."

"Han, I can't see you clearly."

He nodded. "The holonet said visual focus can be affected. It is supposed to clear up pretty quickly."

"I can't do anything. I can't... I hate that--"

"I understand, sweetheart. I hated it when you had to take care of me after Jabba's."

"But you were--"

"Hurt. Just like you."

"I was going to say you were resistant and difficult."

"Then this will make us even." His thumb caressed her cheek. "From what I understand, this is marriage. Taking care of each other."

Leia watched him, breathed, swallowed, then nodded. "Clothes would feel good."

He kissed her forehead. "Be right back." He returned with "The holonet said keeping you moving can help with pain."

"I'm fine."

Han nodded. "You said that when you got shot, too. And when you had Mandalorian flu and passed out in the hangar bay."

Leia rolled her eyes.

"Twice!" He wagged his finger at her.

"That was...different."

"Well, since you're 100% fine and in no pain, how about we try those exercises?"

"How does that work?"

"Holonet sources said moving you around improves circulation. I bend and rub your arms and legs. Remind your nervous system they're still there."

Leia nodded. "That might help with the cramping."

He tilted his head. "What cramping, Your Royal Fineness?"

She rolled her eyes, but had to laugh.

He pulled her arm out to the side, stroked the length of it, then kneaded her muscles from the shoulder down. Twining their fingers, he rotated her wrist then extended it backward and forward.

Leia moaned. She glanced at him through her lashes. He wore that predictable smirk, the one she'd once wanted to slap away, and now only wanted to kiss right off his face.

He tucked her whole arm up, lifted it to stretch her shoulder with the elbow bent, then moved her arm forward then backward in circles from the shoulder. He kneaded his way back down the arm again, opened her hand, massaged the palm, then rolled each finger between his thumb and finger, finishing each by squeezing the nail.

"You're sure this is all right with you, Your Highness?"

Leia hummed.

He started on the next arm, and she hummed again.

"I just have one question, hotshot," she mumbled. "Just how long have you known how to do that and never told me?"

Han flashed her a wide grin. "I have many hidden talents, sweetheart. You should know that by now."

"Hmm."

"Anyway, we're going to be together for a long time. Man's got to keep some kind of mystery, have something to spice things up now and then."

She dozed off again to the long, firm strokes of his thumbs against her aching muscles.


	6. Regaining Autonomy

"I want to sit up."

"That's nice, Your Worshipfulness, but your body's going to have something to say about that."

"It's been four days, and I am going out of my mind!" Arguing through a sound-muffling mask was infuriating.

"I'll see if the holonet has some recorded novels for you!"

"I have work to do!"

"Of course. The Alliance would collapse without Her High Exalted Royalness there to give orders about every detail!"

"I do not need to handle every detail!" She had to wait to catch her breath and nearly vibrated with rage at her stupid, stupid body. "I just… Han, I need to know what's going on!"

"You almost split your head open tipping over in the 'fresher!"

"You caught me! And I'm fine!"

"Leia," Han stopped abruptly and leaned down. "Leia, I know." He kissed her forehead. "You hate doing nothing." Kissed her left temple. "I've never seen you lying around for even ten minutes." Kissed her neck. "I know this is killing you."

The corners of her eyes twitched. Maybe feeling this close to tears so often was part of her body's reaction to the poison. How could just breathing be so exhausting?

"Let's...here." Han reached under her back and pulled her upright.

Her head tipped forward, teeth rattling as her chin hit her chest. Han kept an arm around her shoulders as he rotated her, letting her legs extend over the bunk. He scooted her with him toward the wall, where a pillow had appeared suddenly behind her, and settled next to her.

"There you go, sweetheart," he said, as he adjusted her head against his chest.

He was so warm, and his thumb, brushing against her upper arm, was rhythmic, soothing. He hugged her a bit closer and hummed into her hair. His breathing slowed and, incrementally, his body relaxed.

She didn't think Han had slept in days, at least not for more than short spurts. All she'd done was sleep. Maybe he'd sleep, knowing she was safe next to him.

Resting against him, she soon succumbed as well.

*** 

The revelation came two days later while he was feeding her the warm grain cereal that she only found palatable when he made it.

"Han, aren't there oxygen supplies in the lounge?" She swallowed the bite he'd offered.

"Hmmm?"

"The lounge seats have acceleration straps."

He shrugged. "Yeah."

"We could pull the straps really tight, keep me in one of the lounge seats safely, and there is still oxygen there."

"That's some good thinking, sweetheart." 

Less than an hour later, Han sat back on his heels, admiring his handiwork.

"Whaddaya think, sweetheart? Bondage doing it for you?" Han had adjusted the acceleration straps so tightly they outlined her breasts through the casual clothes she’d asked him to dress her in. Even with his face blurred, she could see him grinning, as he looked from one to the other.

Leia rolled her eyes, but she had to suppress a laugh. Her head stayed tipped to the side. She was going to have a sore neck from working out those muscles, but to be able to do something? It would be worth it.

"You're doing longer without the oxygen." Han pulled down a mask from the upper compartment and plugged it in.

"It's nice," she said with a satisfying exhale.

"What's nice is not seeing your lips turn blue." He held up the mask.

"Let me go a couple more minutes. I've got to build this back up, and I'm fine right now."

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she breathed deeply, raising a told-you-so eyebrow.

"All right. Let me get you a tray." He dug through a compartment Leia had never looked through and came back with a flat surface that tucked under the edge of the seat. He wedged a pillow under each elbow and set her hands on either side of the datapad on the tray, then angled the tray upward. "Let's see you work that thing."

Leia stared at her hands, thinking, concentrating. Her fingers wouldn't reach or stretch, they would only press. She tried to lift her wrist. Tried to lift an arm. Tilted her head the way she wanted the arm to go. She shrugged her shoulders with a huff, and her hand moved, pressing the on button.

She beamed up at him.

Han chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

He leaned down and tapped a finger to her nose then kissed her lightly. "You were concentrating so hard your tongue was sticking out. Very cute." He held up the oxygen mask. "But you were also forgetting to breathe, so it's time."

After he secured the elastic around her head, she asked, "Could you turn up the print size on the datapad?"

"I'm gonna check over the ship. There's a rattle in the left engine port that I don't like. Call me if you need me."

She held up her head, counting to herself to see how long she could keep it straight. A full count of ten before her neck gave out. Better than yesterday. Better. She focused on the two counts better, not how far she had to go. She had to.

The next hour and a half was spent catching up on High Command communiques, reading Old Republic documents, and closing her eyes every five minutes. Even with the print this large, her eyes burned, and she was getting a headache. She shrugged her hand over, pressing the audio button.

The Old Republic records were patchy, clearly heavily modified and carefully worded to fit the Empire's desired version of history. Leia focused on interpolating between the extant writings and her father's stories. She dictated suggested points for the constitutional charter along with her references and notes. She'd edit those later, without the mask.

She'd always hated the audio reader. It took more than twice the time to listen to a document than to read it. Breathing was harder again, and the words had started to swim, so she managed to shrug-press the audio button to listen to more Republic Senate correspondence.

Then Han was there, smoothing back her hair and telling her it was time to get some food into her before she slept for another ten hours.


	7. Interlude

"Good morning, sunshine."

Leia blinked away layers of sleep and fog from a blissfully peaceful night. "Mmmmm. Morning."

"Ready for your exciting day?"

She laughed. A routine had settled in as Leia's condition improved. Up, breakfast, work for the Republic, napping, exercises, lunch, napping, time with Han, exercises, dinner, bed. "I don't think I've ever slept this much in my life."

"Well, it's been a long war." He sported that crooked grin as he helped her sit up. "That's a lotta running, planning, flying, supplying, negotiating, hiding, building, escaping, fighting... I think you've got a lot of rest to catch up on." He removed the oxygen mask. "Oh, yeah, and you're injured. And recovering."

Leia rolled her eyes.

"Ready?"

She nodded, and he picked her up. "What will we be having for breakfast, good sir?" she asked.

"The finest of reconstituted grain cereals, Your Highness."

"Mmm." She giggled into his neck.

"And after we eat, I have a surprise for you."

He steadfastly refused to tell her any more, so she gobbled down her cereal, pausing only to note that she could hold her head up the whole time now.

He brought her to the 'fresher and set her down. As she relieved herself, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. She stared at his chest while he undid his pants. This past week and a half in separate beds, plus her time on Naboo, was far too long for newlyweds. Her breath caught, and she took deep, deliberate breaths and licked her lips slowly.

He braced her, then pulled her shirt off. He framed her face in his hands. "Are you ready for your surprise, sweetheart?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He raked his fingers through her hair, then began removing hair pins and setting them on the counter.

"Han?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"You'll see." He unwound her hair and unbraided it, then drew his fingers through it once. "Here we go." He picked her up, holding her to him, then stepped into the shower with her.

A stool was already there, and he set her down and turned on the water, kneeling beside her, holding her balanced, helping the water work through her hair.

The warmth, the tree-scented soaps he'd dug out from somewhere, the feel of him holding her, firm and loved. Her crampy muscles relaxed. Even her face relaxed with a long "Mmmm."

She tucked herself inside of the sensation, feeling it in color. She reached inside herself and pulled that feeling out and around them. His golden presence against her, the deep blue of the water, flowing against her scalp and through her hair, the warmth enveloping them in a deep, translucent red, and all that surrounded by the pale blue that was the Falcon's hull and engines. As Han's fingers massaged trillium soap into her scalp and the earthy scent flowed around and through her in a spring green.

Feeling through the Force was like turning inside out, as if all of the energy of their love and togetherness, of the rotation of the galaxy and light of the stars was contained within her. At the same time, she was but a tiny spark within the fabric of life and the galaxy. It was tiny, huge, vast, complex, and simple. It was everything, every moment in an endless row, and a single point in time and space, passing in less than a flicker, flowing in and through itself and back again.

There was one tiny, orange point, flowing out of synch with the rest. It buzzed, like a biting insect circling around her.

"LEIA!"

"Mmmm, Han, that is lovely."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I was talking to you, and it was like you were...gone. I was afraid you were having a seizure or something."

"Han, I'm fine. This feels amazing. I'm fine."

His eyes narrowed. "Where did you go?" He wagged his finger at her. One of these days she was going to have to bite that finger to teach him a lesson. "And don't say nowhere."

She sighed. "I really was enjoying this. You, the trillium soap," she sniffed, "the Rbollean petal-oil--"

He ran a hand through her hair. "Do not try to change the subject."

"I could feel it all in the Force. At least, I think it was the Force." She glanced at him. "Do you believe me?"

His eyes dropped away and he directed the water to rinse them both. "I don't...not believe you." He turned off the water and reached outside the cubicle for towels. "It's just...strange, you know?"

She did know.

He wrapped a towel around Leia's hair, enfolding her in a larger one before carrying her to their bunk.

She kissed his chest and stroked the springy hairs there. "You know, we could…" She tilted her chin up, and he kissed her.

He laid her down and kissed her clavicle, then up her neck. "We could," he agreed. "But I'd like to wait till you're stronger." He kissed the other side of her neck. "I've got...plans. And I want you to be able to participate. Anyway, respiratory distress? Not so sexy."

He had a point.

"Now, if you'd like, I can wait to get us dressed till after your exercises, Your Worship."

She chuckled at his eyebrow waggle. The fact that he could make her laugh--that even in the early days and weeks and awful months just after Alderaan, he had been able to make her laugh--it was part of why she loved him. But, no, if he wasn't going to play along with her, she wasn't with him.

"Han, I couldn't possibly. I mean, if we're not going to keep going, that would just be taunting. I'll have my clothes now, husband."

Han almost sulked as he dressed, pulling his own pants on and dressing her quickly. He stretched and massaged her limbs then twisted her torso and hips. He pressed her knees to her chest and pulled her arms around them. "Now lace your fingers together."

"Bossy."

"I learn from the best, sweetheart."

She tried to muster a glare at him, but that crooked grin just made her chuckle. Slowly, one finger at a time, she joined her hands then squeezed her right hand, then her left, then her right. "Got it."

"Okay. Hold on now."

She tightened everything she could, then nodded. He released her legs slowly. She held on. And held on. And held on. She took a deep breath and, during the exhale, pulled. Her legs came a bit closer to her chest.

"All right!" Han whooped. "Yeah!"

Something about his pitch...it was like the buzzing she'd heard in the Force before he'd called her name. She let go abruptly. Her feet landed in Han's stomach.

"Oof! Ow!"

"I'm sorry. Han, I'm sorry, but remember I said someone was following us?"

He nodded.

"They've been waiting. Waiting for us to get to this chunk of empty space. No hyperspace lanes, no trade routes, no planets or asteroids, just...us." She swallowed. "I think they're almost here."


	8. Into Battle

"I need to be leaning toward the controls. Shove my hips back."

"Now who's bossy?" He lifted under her arms and pushed her knees. "Better?"

"Yes. Pull my hair out from behind my back."

He leaned her forward, got the loose braid of damp hair he'd plaited, and pulled it over her shoulder.

"Okay. Strap me in."

Han adjusted the crash webbing at her waist and across her chest. "There you go. Are you in tight?"

Leia shrugged her shoulders, leaned her head forward, then nodded. "I'm good."

"Do you think flight gloves would help or make it harder?"

Something that would stick to the controls better. Something that she would have to fight while gripping. "I think you should strap my hands onto the yoke."

"That'll keep you off the throttle," Han warned.

"You think we're going to go into this at anything less than full throttle?"

"Good point." Han put her hands on the yoke and fixed a strap around each. "Let's see how that works. He sat in Chewie's seat leaning over to see the monitor. "Nothing is showing on any of our sensor arrays, so either there's nothing out there, or what is out there is entirely up to you to find."

Leia nodded.

Together, they tried simple maneuvers, then more complex ones. As they came out of a roll, Leia felt her eyes fix, almost crossing. She reached in and out and out. The orange buzzing was there.

"It's a ship. Small. At 155 degrees. Closing in." She blinked and looked over at Han.

His face was Endor-serious. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"I've got to get into the gun well. You set me up for the shot, sweetheart." He kissed her, and his hand trembled against the back of her neck.

She always felt this kind of ill when going into a battle. She took two cleansing breaths, so glad this assassin was more concerned with the right place than the timing. A week ago, she couldn't have done this, and they'd have had no recourse.

The proximity alert sounded, and an orange dot on the screen blinked as it moved nearer. "Han, we've got company!"

"On it!" His voice came clear over the comms.

"I'm bringing her around."

The little ship swung from side to side like a pendulum off their starboard rear.

"I'm putting us behind that ship," Leia called.

She pulled the _Falcon_ back into a tight loop. When she came out of it, the other ship was far out of her flight path. She'd been too slow.

A shot rocked the _Falcon_.

"Keep us moving!" Han shouted. "Don't give him a clear shot!"

"Got it!" She swung the _Falcon_ side to side while locating the other ship. This time it was at 280 degrees, and she banked sharply left, spinning twice before evening out with their side to the ship.

She felt the quad cannons fire, but the attack ship remained on the monitor computer.

"Kriff!" she and Han said in unison. She felt in that moment, more than any other, how together they were in this.

She ducked, bobbed, spun, rolled, juked, banked, weaved...every trick she'd learned from Han, she used to maneuver closer at each opening, and each time, she ended up out of range or positioned wrong.

Shots from the ship flew past the _Falcon_. Leia felt another sharp jerk of the ship.

"Come on, baby," Han called.

Leia wasn't sure if Han was talking to her or the ship. She banked, scanning the monitor. There was nothing, then the small ship whizzed past the window. Leia ducked reflexively.

This was not working. She was being out-maneuvered.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered. She closed her eyes, looked into herself, and felt space turn inside out. She scanned the space inside her bubble. The orange hum was stronger, louder, and nearer. She felt for it, then willed her arms to move toward that point in space.

She overshot the target, and came around, ignoring where the acceleration harness dug into her skin. That, and so much else, mattered less than setting Han up for a shot.

One small ship.

One small, buzzing, orange speck against a sea of stars. She felt the hum in her chest and in her head and turned toward it.

The quad cannons fired.

The _Falcon_ shook. Alarms sounded, something crashed to the deck, and there was a faint acrid smell in the air.

Leia shook her head to clear it, but the starfield was spinning before her eyes. It was strangely hard to turn the yoke. Then she felt her left arm hanging at her side and knew why the yoke felt off-balance.

The last blast had shaken loose the strap on that hand.

She was panting. Adrenaline, exertion...maybe both. She pushed her right hand up, evening out the spin.

"Leia, you've got to bring her around for me again!"

Deep breath. "Coming up!"

She shrugged her left shoulder. Shrugged it and tossed that side forward. Pulled up on her elbow and shrugged and tossed.

"LEIA!"

She reached...and plunged back into the Force.

It seemed...closer, more raw.

She reached again, shrugging and shifting her torso against the straps, and her hand landed on the yoke. She gripped it, reached out, and turned toward the buzzing orange--the biting insect stinging the _Falcon_.

The colors swirled brighter, closer, pulsing around and through her. She pushed the _Falcon_ to go faster, heard the combat maneuver panel click on, then pulled back, keeping the roll tighter this time.

She could see the insect-ship getting larger, clearer.

It peeled away to the left, and she banked, following, picking up speed and matching its flight pattern.

The quad cannons fired in bursts. Again. Again.

And the insect spattered.

The windshield was peppered with fragments in time to the whoop from behind her.

All of space settled in and out of her. All of space held her, held the _Falcon_. It welcomed her as its own, as kin, as part of the great music. For the first time, Leia heard the song of the galaxy.

The rhythm reverberated through her feet, through her being.

"Leia?"

There was pressure on her body. She had a body.

She pulled back from the galaxy with a mental bow, formal, like she'd learned at the courts of Alderaan. She felt a farewell and responded in kind, promising to return before she turned right-side out again.

Han was shaking her shoulders. "Leia!"

She grinned at him. "We did it!"

He moved his hands to her cheeks. "Yes, we did!" He kissed her, and she leaned into it, kissing him back.

With her senses still heightened, she could feel that kiss to her toes. She'd always thought that description silly, but it was true this time.

Han leaned back and she got in one last kiss before he sat in Chewie's seat. He flicked switches, lowered the throttle power, re-set their destination to rendezvous with the main Alliance forces, and toggled the auto-pilot back on.

"That was some great shooting, hotshot." She smiled at him. He looked...sharper, richer, more defined. Energy rippled around him, banking and turning like the _Falcon_ in flight. It was a heady feeling, seeing more than just his face and body.

He loosened the strap around her right hand.

She concentrated and pulled her hand back into her lap, then unclenched the other hand and did the same.

"Sweetheart! That's fantastic!" He kissed her again, then kissed each hand. "And if you think that's going to stop us talking about this disappearing act you've done twice now, you've got another thing coming." He grinned like he'd won something.

"Why, you...you ungrateful...Droyk!"

He remained infuriatingly cheerful as he knelt beside her. "You just hate that I caught you." The crash webbing loosened. "And that I'm right."

"Don't get used to it." She started to slouch as soon as the harness was free, and realized she was shaking. "That was an adrenaline rush."

"It was pretty great." He gathered her up. "Let's go talk."

She rolled her eyes. "Like I have a choice."

"How 'bout I let you choose where," Han said grandly.

"On _Home One_."

He actually laughed at her. "Nope."

"After the war."

"I said where, not when."

She lifted her chin and stared at him. Then she yawned widely.

"Creative." He shook his head at her. "All right. I'll check the damage to the _Falcon_ while you rest and figure out how you're going to explain this."

She tried to nod, but yawned widely again, and had drifted to sleep before Han secured her in the med capsule.


	9. Welcome Back

There were no threats in her dreams this time.

The galaxy spun around her, cradling her. Stars twinkled. It was as if the planets bowed or, at least, nodded gravely before they danced away.

She saw glimpses of planets: Naboo, Tatooine, and Alderaan spun near her, one at a time. She felt compelled to thank them.

The next glimpses were more brief: of Coruscant, Hoth, the moons of Yavin and Endor, Lothal and so many other planets she'd visited, infiltrated, or had bases or missions on over most of the past decade.

She knew, somehow, that they all were welcoming her, and it seemed they were welcoming her...back.

The Force was what "bound them all together" Luke had said, and she felt it here, the gravitational pulls that kept them all in balance was the same as what kept her in balance. Each point of contact was like a gentle kiss.

The kisses were on her forehead, her cheeks, then her lips. She blinked, and Han was there.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

"Hey." She rubbed her eyes.

"Look at you!" He pointed to her movement. "One bit of clever piloting and you think you're all hot stuff now."

She grinned. One more bit of independence, on its way back.

While Han got her up, he kept a running commentary. "Nothing vital on the _Falcon_ was hit. I don't know if that was luck, or you tinkering in the Force, but it's a real relief. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to limp back to the Fleet on sublight without life support."

As they got ready to leave the 'fresher, she lifted her arms and placed them around his neck with a flourish.

He grinned. "And here I didn't know my demure little wife could be such a show-off."

She snorted at 'demure,' and just said "I like to leave the skills you're best at to you." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Just to keep things fair."

"I made some stew while you were napping, but if you don't want me to brag about my cooking--"

She tucked her face into his neck, unable to keep from chuckling. She kissed him just as he set her down.

He reached for the straps.

"I think I'll work on my balance for a bit. If you'll sit next to me?"

"Sounds like a deal."

He spooned them bowls of stew, and she concentrated on moving the spoon to her mouth. Halfway through, she let her arm drop next to her.

Han picked up the spoon and offered her bites as if it was the most normal thing in the galaxy. He'd never once complained.

She shrugged her arm so her hand rested on his thigh. Once she'd swallowed her mouthful, she squeezed.

He scooped another bite into his mouth and, around it, mumbled, "Yeah?"

"Han?"

He looked at her, head tilted that way he did when he was expecting bad news.

"Thank you."

"It's nothing." He shrugged.

"It's a lot. To me. Thank you."

He shrugged again. "You're welcome."

He held out a spoonful and she nodded, chewing slowly. Give him a compliment or an award in front of everyone, and Han was the first to swagger in, wearing his version of his best clothes, beaming and cocky, making sure his whole bearing radiated how much he deserved it. Give him a personal, sincere thank you, and he squirmed like a little boy caught disobeying a favorite teacher. It had been her first clue how much of his bravado was a shell he wore to distract anyone from knowing the real him.

For his part, he had seen through her archness, shouting, and anger to see that she was hiding from authentic emotion and the possibility of getting hurt as much as he was.

"We should talk now, Han."

"Seriously?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you were just going to avoid the topic for...well...possibly forever." He scraped the last bite out of his bowl, ate it, and pushed the bowl toward the center of the table.

"Why...why would you think that?" She knew. She did.

He shrugged. "You're pretty good at the silent treatment."

Leia clasped her hands. She licked her lips, then lifted her chin and met Han's eyes. "I've been using the Force," she said without preface. She looked down again. "At least, I'm pretty sure it's the Force." She looked at him again. "I mean, I don't know what else it could be."

"Well, yeah." He put a hand over hers. "I want to know...if you're okay. Those weren't like the flashbacks. You felt relaxed. But I need to know if you feel safe doing this."

"I...honestly don't know." Leia licked her lips again. "I have to talk to Luke. I...don't know what I'm doing. He walked me through meditating a few times, but then he was sent out with the Rogues, and I was on Naboo, then we were sent to Arkanis, and… I don't know. But what I'm doing feels...right." She tilted her head and shrugged. "Or, at least, not dangerous."

Han watched her closely, entirely still except where his forehead wrinkled. He ran a hand over his mouth and chin. "I called your name several times before you came back from...Force-land." The hand over hers squeezed gently, and his thumb stroked her knuckles. "It scared me," he admitted. "I...don't know where I fit with some...mystical energy field."

"You fit." Leia untwined her fingers, slipped her hand into his, and held on. "You fit with me. I fit with you." She squeezed. "I said it when we married: you make me better."

He looked from their hands to her eyes, eyebrows still drawn together.

"No…'mystical energy field' can change that, Han."

"You think you're going to train with Luke?"

She bit her lips. "I don't know." She sighed. "I know he wants me to. He's alone. I mean, we all have each other, but you and I really have each other. I think he feels like a third wheel, and he wants...brother time, or shared Jedi time. My job, my role, my _calling_ is to rebuild the Republic. I do want to learn more about the Force. I want to make sure I can control my use of it, make sure I know how to keep it from controlling me. But Luke's path is not mine."

He squeezed her hand back. "You don't have to decide everything now. I just want to make sure you're thinking things through--"

She snorted.

"I know. Thinking things through is kinda your thing. I don't want to try and call you back from...out there somewhere...and find that you can't get back. Promise me you'll be careful?"

"I will."

Han scooted closer and put an arm around her.

"Thanks. I was starting to tip."

"I know."

She leaned into him, into his warmth and his acceptance. She hadn't realized how much she trusted him until this trip.

After a few minutes he squeezed her shoulder. "You mind if I set you up with a datapad? I want to work on a few minor repairs I can get to from inside."

She nodded. "And leave the oxygen mask with me, but let me build up some time without it."

He tightened the acceleration harness and put the mask elastic around her head, propping the mask on her forehead. "I'm putting this where you can get to it quickly, and I'm leaving a comlink right here." He placed it next to her datapad.

She grinned. "I promise, I'll call at the first sign of needing something."

She started typing up a report on the day's sortie, relishing fingers that moved freely and a datapad she could see without blurriness.


	10. Persuasion

All through dinner Han looked...suspicious. He was up to something. He kept glancing at her, seeing if she was looking at him, opening his mouth as if to say something then closing it again.

Leia resisted feeling for him in the Force. It felt...an intrusion of sorts, especially while he was still uncertain of it. Anyway she didn't know for sure if she could check the surface only or if she'd punch right through him, so it seemed a particularly bad idea.

Once he'd cleared away their dishes, he rubbed his hands together. "Um...I have...something to show you." He pointed towards the corridor. "Wanna see?"

She chuckled. "I think that's up to you." She reached for him.

He carried her to the bunk and sat down on it with her on his lap. "You've been doing so well. I don't think you need all of the med capsule monitors anymore." He reached toward the pillow. "I'm afraid of you sleeping without extra oxygen, though. So today I dug through the supply cupboard and found extra tubing to extend the feed over the bulkhead." He pulled out an extra oxygen mask. "Do you think that'll work?"

She stared at the mask in his hand and grinned. "I think it will." She pressed her face against his neck, squeezing his shoulder with the arm slung around him. "I've missed being close to you."

"Don't ever do that to me again." His tone started as teasing, but his voice cracked. Leia could feel him shaking. "When I didn't know what hit you, ...how much you'd recover… Leia, you went _gray_. All we had was that oxygen. If you'd stopped breathing..." He wrapped both arms around her and held her close. "I couldn't watch you die."

She nodded into his skin. "I know how that feels. I know." She set her palm over his heartbeat, her lips against the pulse in his throat. "I'm not planning on a repeat. You're not going to get rid of me that easily." She let his tremors fade as he clutched her. "We've been so lucky. So many people died. Some are blind, hell, Luke lost a hand, and others will never walk or hear. I was terrified of what I wouldn't be able to do."

"Those first couple of days, I knew I could handle any of that so long as you lived."

She leaned back and took his face in her hands. "I lived. I'm going to be fine. I'm going to stay with you." She kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his lips. "When I was asleep earlier, I felt like the Force...welcomed me home, for lack of a better term. I think it's looking out for me. Maybe it always has been." She put her forehead to his. "Let's go to bed."

"Don't have to ask me twice."

After evening preparations and settling into the bunk, Leia sighed. "Oh, this is so nice. I've missed a soft mattress. And being with you."

"I've missed being with you." He stroked her arm. "How'd your work go this afternoon?"

"I updated Command on our encounter, and sent my recommendations. I think we're going to need to return to Arkanis with at least a full squadron when larger targets are achieved. The monarchy there is either still friendly to the Empire, or it's being controlled by the faction at the Imperial Officer Academy."

Han nodded.

"Either way, they're not going to rejoin the Republic without...persuasion."

"There's a lot of persuading left to do," he said.

"Quite a lot. All we have to do is keep winning until we've won them all."

"I think that's just a matter of time."

He tucked her back against him, arms around her, chin on her head.

"You know what else is a matter of time?"

"What's that?"

"Me being strong enough for whatever else you have planned for this bunk." She turned, and he kissed her one more time before she settled the oxygen mask in place.

"That's not gonna take any persuading. I'm all set to blow your world."

"I'm entirely persuaded. It sounds like we need to step up my exercises so we can...enjoy."

He pressed a kiss into her hair. "Good night, wife."

She was more relaxed, felt more safe, than she had since before Naboo. "Good night, husband."

***  
end  
***

**Author's Note:**

> Many MANY thanks to the last-minute beta-reading support (and the LOTS of moral support throughout) of the following lovelies: oldtoadwoman, graciecatfamilyband/imnothere24, mandatheginger/mandyq/mandrinaq, and gondalsqueen


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